


Sunflowers and Daisy Chains

by qwertyuioplmm



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Specifically flower tattoos, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29202972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertyuioplmm/pseuds/qwertyuioplmm
Summary: Your injuries show up as flower tattoos on your soulmate. Din is working as a bail bondsmen who starts frequenting the bar where Luke works. Bar fights ensue and the two start to suspect that just maybe the man they've been pining for is indeed their soulmate.Written for Star Wars Soulmate Month 2021.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 30
Kudos: 343
Collections: Star Wars Soulmate Month 2021





	Sunflowers and Daisy Chains

**Author's Note:**

> XXXXXX denotes a change in the point of view and a line denotes a scene change/slight time jump.
> 
> Happy reading!

Tattoos are always a funny business. They can show up on your skin at any time of day, at any age, but they only do so when your soulmate gets hurt. Their injuries are reflected on your body in flowers, turning pain into beauty. It’s the first thing every kid learns, and it’s something that never quite leaves your mind. It’s led to some wild news stories. Lovers realizing their spouse had been getting fake tattoos in order to pose as a soulmate. 

Luke thinks it’s all a little ridiculous. He’s managed to go twenty five years of life without a tattoo, which is pretty much unheard of. So maybe he just doesn’t have a soulmate. Or maybe his soulmate lives in a bubble. He’s not quite sure which scenario would be better.

He’s closing up at Mos Espa Cantina, washing down the tables and restacking some of the last glasses. It’s nearly two in the morning, he’d drawn the late night shift for the week. It isn’t until he turns the key in the lock, effectively ending his shift, that he realizes his knuckles are roped with color. Both hands have small daisy chains across every knuckle in various shades of purple, blue, and pink.

The smile on Luke’s face can’t be contained as he walks home, feeling much more awake than he had any right to be at 2am on a Tuesday.

XXXXXX

Din’s not exactly pleased with how his night went. He’d finally found some work at Carga’s Bail Bonds, and it paid well enough considering Din didn’t have any education past his GED. He was thankful that someone was able to give him something to do, and if that meant he had to track down some bail jumpers to bring them back to jail, he was happy to do it. 

What he wasn’t happy about, was that his very first mark put up more of a fight than Din was expecting. Mythrol Sanz was a short man and had a very unassuming nature, so why Din ended up in a physical altercation with the man is beyond him. It’s been nearly an hour since Din had dropped the man back at the nearest police station and his mind is still running through the events of the night. 

Din eventually reaches his dingy little apartment and sets about getting ready for bed. One thing he wasn’t prepared for with this new job was how late it would keep him up on nights when he was tailing his marks. The alarm clock on his night stand tells him it’s nearly 4am. 

The bathroom light is harsh as Din cleans the blood from his split knuckles.

* * *

This job is absolutely kicking Din’s ass. The late nights and fights he constantly gets into grate on him. His knuckles have finally stopped bleeding or bruising every time he has to punch someone, so he supposes he’s doing something right. 

One of his coworkers, Cara Dune, laughed at him when he told her his usual routine for finding marks. She suggested he work smarter not harder, start frequenting dingy bars rather than chase each person down. Marks are usually more likely to not make a scene if you manage to corner them in a public place.

Din feels kind of dumb for not thinking of that sooner. But, you live and you learn and for Din that means researching some of the dingiest bars in the area that lowlife’s might call home. 

As Din sits down on his couch, legs propped up on the coffee table, he slides his computer into his lap. He types the first two words of his intended “hole in the wall bars in Tatooine” search when his right wrist blossoms with yellow petals. 

His search is immediately forgotten in favor of Din running his fingers over the new ink that paints his skin. It’s a small bracelet of petals, and Din can only imagine what injury would make such a strange pattern that travels all around his wrist.

Din spends some more time tracing his new art before getting ready to go to the office and get information on his new mark. 

Both Cara and Greef comment on its beauty and color. They’re glad to see Din happy for once, rather than run down after months of chasing down the bad guys. Happy because he finally has confirmation that he does indeed have a soulmate. There’s someone out there who is meant to be with him, and after twenty seven years of waiting it’s nice to finally have some ink on him.

It’s late when Din gets home, about midnight. Tonight was just a reconnaissance stake out, so really it’s an early night for him. He sets about prepping the oven to heat a frozen pizza for dinner when he notices that his bracelet of petals has blossomed into much more.

New sunflower petals start a little past his wrist, all of them a bright and vibrant yellow that he thinks contrasts nicely against his tanned skin. As Din trails his fingers down across the back of his hand he notices the petals become droopier and paler. If he looks closely he can see the outline of some bones between the petals. It’s a beautiful piece of art that Din can’t help but be sad about.

While the tattoo on his hand is impressive, it gives him a very melancholy feeling. Vibrant petals falling away to wilt and die between the tattooed bones of his fingers. The piece is also big, much bigger than most tattoos Din has ever seen. The fact that it had grown from what it originally was worries Din as well.

He just hopes that his soulmate is okay. His thoughts turn to what injury his soulmate could have sustained to warrant such a big tattoo. Din quickly shakes these thoughts away, not wanting to entertain whatever presumably traumatic event his soulmate just went through.

Din inventories his long sleeve shirts while his pizza cooks. It won’t exactly cover his hand but if he can avoid as much conversation about his new tattoo he’ll do whatever he can. It’s not that Din is ashamed of the art. He doesn’t _want_ to hide it. He just doesn’t want to think about the reason why he has it and why it changed.

XXXXXX

Luke is going to fucking kill Han. They’d both had a rare day off from the cantina, and had decided to go to the community center to play some basketball. Luke should have said no at the suggestion, remembered that the community center was run down and in desperate need of repairs. But, of course, Luke hadn’t really remembered that fact until they were pulling into the parking lot. 

They’d met up with a bunch of their other friends, Leia, Chewie, Lando, Biggs, Wedge. And basketball was fun up until Han had bumped into Luke. It was dumb, Luke was just playing around, making the light tap from Han out to be something much bigger than it actually was. He’d reached out to the dividing wall between the courts, oblivious to the tiny hole in the glass pane. 

The thing had shattered as soon as Luke’s fingers grazed it and his forward momentum from his exaggeration meant there was no way to avoid the falling glass. The whole thing couldn’t have been more than five seconds but it felt like an eternity as Luke watched the glass meet his hand and wrist. 

Leia had rushed him to the hospital amidst Han’s sincerest apologies. But there wasn’t much the doctors were going to be able to do. The glass had severed a lot of his nerves, and the whole thing was really bloody and Luke kind of hated looking at it.

So that’s how he ended up heading into surgery to get his hand amputated. 

He’s only had them for a few months but Luke thinks losing the daisy chains might be the most painful part of the whole experience.

* * *

Din’s been frequenting the Mos Espa Cantina for the past four months. He’s had a wildly successful time managing to catch his marks here, and Cara was right, they tend to put up less of a fight when they’re in public. 

There’s a new bartender tonight, a slim man with hair that shines even in the dim light of the bar. Din finds himself gravitating to the counter rather than taking up his usual position at the booth in the back.

“You new here? You’re not the usual bartender.”

The man gives a little chuckle. It reminds Din of a ray of sun poking through the clouds.

“No, I’ve worked here for a while. Today’s my first day back, I had to take some time off. Name’s Luke.”

“Well then welcome back, Luke.”

“Thanks…”

“Din.”

“Din. You must be the new regular Chewie was telling me about. The one who catches criminals or something?”

“Bail jumpers, yeah.”

Din’s not sure why this conversation feels like one you would have on a first date. It’s stilted yet refreshing all at once. Unsure of what to say next and not wanting Luke to have to put up with a creepy new customer who wants to talk all the time, Din goes to order a drink to keep him company while he waits for his mark to show up for the night.

“Can I get a-”

“Whiskey, neat. Right?”

“Chewie tell you that one too?”

“Yup, I’ve got a good memory.” Luke sets about pulling out the whiskey and a glass for Din and Din can’t help but watch Luke work.

He’s planted in a stool by the time Luke is done, deciding that maybe talking to Luke might be a better way to pass the time then just staring at his drink. 

XXXXXX

The conversation flows, as do Din’s drinks. It’s a slow night, allowing Luke to carry more than a two second conversation with Din. Luke doesn’t remember work ever being this enjoyable, but maybe he just didn’t have the right company before.

Things were strange after he lost his hand, having to re-teach himself how to do simple tasks with his left hand until he was able to get fitted for a robotic prosthetic. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to get back to work, but now that he’s back, he’s glad for the company that Din provides.

Din leaves early, his mark obviously not showing up for the night. So Luke says goodbye to the man and wonders if it’s normal to miss someone you just met. The rest of the night is fairly uneventful until closing time when Luke has to cut two people off, causing them to get angry and smash their beer bottles on the floor. 

Thankfully, they get into their taxi with little fanfare after their outburst. Which just leaves Luke to clean up their mess of wet glass. Most of it is in big chunks, which Luke sets about picking up first before grabbing the broom to get the little shards. Luke should have just gotten the broom though, as he ends up scraping his hand against the floor when he picks up a piece of glass, causing small pieces to lodge into his fingers. 

He really needs to be more careful around glass.

Luke rushes to the bathroom, running some hot water over his fingers to see where the injuries are. He manages to get all of the small pieces out from under his skin with little trouble, cuts zigzagging across his left hand. He’s much more cautious cleaning up the rest of the mess back in the bar, taking extra care in making sure his hands are nowhere near any more glass.

XXXXXX

Din isn’t used to being home this early, so he decides to put on a movie and take time to actually relax. He ends up falling asleep twenty minutes in, clearly catching up on the sleep he’s been missing recently.

He wakes as the sun begins to filter through the window with a crick in his neck. Din stretches, bringing his left hand past his face. He does something of a double take at the dark lines running through his fingers. 

Upon closer inspection there are small vines and leaves running all through the fingers on his left hand. There’s no color to these ones, unlike on his right hand. There’s also a small lavender tattoo running along the outside of his hand. It’s a pale purple that Din thinks looks fragile. 

Where his right hand is slightly imposing and much sadder, the tattoos on his left hand seem wistful. Din decides he likes the contrast.

* * *

Neither man is really sure how it happens, but they come to some sort of mutual agreement. Din always takes his drinks at the bar now, keeping Luke company during the slow parts of his shifts at the cantina. Luke keeps an eye out for the people Din tracks, calling him every so often if one of Din’s marks shows up when he’s not around. Din has been immensely grateful for the extra set of eyes allowing him to bring in more bail jumpers than he ever has before. He tries to pay Luke back by staying late at the bar and dealing with unruly customers in the early hours of the morning. Luke’s never really said anything about it, but Din likes to think he’s being helpful.

The months drag on, winter turning to summer and then summer kicking into full swing. Business has been booming at the cantina, and more often than not Din has found himself fighting for his normal spot at the end of the bar, the perfect perch to watch the door for incoming bail jumpers and to watch Luke work.

It’s kind of mesmerizing in a way. Luke is skilled and nimble, mixing drinks with a deftness Din doesn’t think he could ever manage. Before they had really become friends Din would never have thought to ask about the single tattoo he can see on Luke. For whatever reason, amidst the loud chatter of other patrons and the way Luke is busily reaching across the bar to fill glasses, Din’s mind drifts to the delicate daisy’s across Luke’s knuckles. 

Din thinks it’s nice that they’ve managed to avoid the conversation. It’s all that anyone ever seems interested in, comparing injuries and tattoos, finding their special someone. It makes dating hard, as people are usually reluctant to form that romantic attachment to anyone who doesn’t have tattoos lining up with their injuries. Regardless, through all the late nights and slow days it seemed to be the one topic neither of them was brave enough to approach. He’s caught the glimpse of color and small flowers on Luke’s hand and he assumed that Luke had probably seen the art that covered his own hands too.

Luke’s never mentioned a soulmate before, though. So maybe he’s in a similar boat to Din, having tattoos but no one who’s injuries compare. Din’s mind wanders further, wondering if Luke maybe does have a soulmate that he’s never mentioned. He must frown at this thought, as Luke is standing before him a second later.

“You okay here, Din? I know it’s kind of busy today. I can keep an eye out for your mark tonight if you want to go home.”

Din takes a second to blink up at Luke in a dazed manner. He appreciates that Luke is trying to look out for him. In another life, one less strict about soulmates and romantic relationships, Din might have taken this moment to blurt out something about going out to dinner one night when Luke wasn’t working. Din hopes the blush pushing its way down his face and neck doesn’t betray his thoughts. They seem to have run away from him today. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Just lost in thought.” Luke is beaming at him, glad to hear he’s still in good spirits. It’s distracting, and his train of thought doesn’t seem to want to leave Luke behind. 

The chime of the bell rings through the cantina, signaling more customers for Luke to take care of.

“Let me know if you need anything.” Luke pats the bar counter in front of Din before moving to the opposite end, greeting the newcomers. Din can’t help but watch him effortlessly take orders and set about filling them. 

Somehow, his eyes do manage to flick away from Luke, following the group of new customers as they filter towards an empty table further into the cantina. Din narrows in on one of the women in the group, realizing rather quickly that she’s the one he’s been tasked with bringing in. Xi’an Tena is her name. Jumped bail on an aggravated assault charge. She’s got a history of being pretty unruly and dangerous. Din only hopes that she won’t want to make a scene in front of her friends. 

Din manages to catch Luke’s eyes while he serves the last of the drinks and raps on the counter twice, their little signal that Din is off to confront a mark, before slipping off his stool and traversing the crowd. The signal had come naturally, Din doing it without really thinking about it. Luke had commented on it one day, thanking him for giving him a warning that things might get a little hectic in the following moments. Din honestly tried not to make a scene whenever he could, not wanting Luke to have to deal with lost business due to a bar fight. 

Din cuts a winding path through the bar, making his way slowly towards Xi’an and her friends. 

XXXXXX

Luke hadn’t recognized her when she came in, so he supposes it’s a good thing Din had decided he was going to stick around tonight. Din is good at his job, obviously more skilled than he is with faces, and Luke gets preoccupied with watching Din as he weaves through the pack of people populating the cantina. Luke finds himself unable to look away as Din confronts the group, watching on with a mix of apprehension and awe.

There have been times that Din has had to make a scene in order to get his marks to comply, but for the most part he’s good about sweet talking them and having them go with him quietly. That fact does nothing to quell the nerves that fill Luke right now. 

_I have a bad feeling about this._

For good reason too, because Din seems to only get half a sentence out before Xi’an splashes her drink in his face and tries to run for the door. Din manages to get a hand on her arm even in his half blind state, effectively stopping her in her tracks. What Din doesn’t see coming is the punch to the side that Xi’an levels at him. It collides solidly with Din’s ribs and Luke can hear the thud of it from his spot behind the bar. 

_That’s going to leave a good bruise on his ribs._

Luke manages to stop that thought, or any further thoughts about marks (be it injuries or tattoos) anywhere on Din’s body, in its tracks, instead focusing on the fact that Xi’an had slipped from Din’s grasp and was now making a clean escape to the exit.

Taking the initiative, Luke wills his body into action, taking three quick steps around the counter and another five to the door, using his body to block Xi’an from being able to leave. 

“Please sir, you have to let me go, this man is attacking me.”

Her pleas fall on deaf ears, and Din easily catches back up, slapping some handcuffs onto Xi’an’s wrists. She goes quiet after that, realizing the game is up.

“Thanks for the assist there.” Din is slightly disheveled, definitely damp, and out of breath. Luke’s mind goes blank between Din’s physical appearance and the praise coming from his mouth.

A beat passes.

The noise of the bar seems to rush back into existence. When had it left?

Din is still looking at him, holding Xi’an with a firm hand. Wispy tattoo lines wind between thick fingers. Luke finds he has to physically wrench his gaze back to Din’s face. 

“Uh yeah.” Luke shakes his head, trying to regain any sense of normalcy. “Anytime.”

“Sorry for the mess, didn’t think she’d be that much of a hassle.”

“Not a problem, I can take care of it. You alright?”

“Yeah nothing I can’t handle,” Din says, leaning sideways. He stretches the spot where Xi’an had punched him and Luke swears he can see the way Din’s muscles flex under his shirt. When his gaze meets Din’s again, he knows he’s been caught staring. Din’s smug smile prompts Luke’s cheeks to blush red. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

It takes longer than it should for Luke to return to the bar and start making drinks again.

The clock in his car reads 2:17am when Luke pulls up to his apartment, finally done for the night. He makes quick work getting ready for bed, tired after all the excitement at the cantina tonight. Still, he wouldn’t trade it for any alternative. Getting to watch Din tonight had been something new. Or, at least it felt new. Different? Good? Hot?

Luke can’t decide on how he wants to classify it. He enjoyed it whatever it was. It was refreshing, and Luke can’t remember the last time a guy had him so flustered. Not that anything was going to come from it. Most people don’t really date outside of trying to find their soulmate. And while Luke wouldn’t mind if they weren’t soulmates he doesn’t want to presume that Din would feel the same way. 

Though, now that he thinks about it, they’ve never really talked about soulmates and tattoos. He knows Din has some on his hands, but he’s never really had the opportunity to inspect them. Din’s also never mentioned having a soulmate. Maybe he should bring it up tomorrow if it’s a slow day. It never hurt to ask, right?

Luke’s thoughts are halted as he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. In the middle of his bedtime routine, in the middle of changing, in the middle of putting on a clean shirt, he spots the new lines of ink painting his torso. He carefully pulls the shirt back over his head, being careful not to touch the new tattoo, as if it might rub off.

It’s a rose. Black and grey, spanning multiple ribs on his left side. He tentatively traces one finger over the outline of some of the petals, committing their pattern to memory. It’s been a while since he’d lost the daisy chains with his right hand, and this is the first new ink he’s gotten since then. 

In his happiness at getting new ink, Luke fails to remember his thought earlier in the evening about Din’s bruised ribs.

* * *

Din makes sure he’s at the bar just a few minutes after Luke starts his shift. He wants to apologize for making a scene last night. It had been a while since he’d had to get physical with a mark. He’s mostly glad he hadn’t lost his touch and was still able to get Xi’an to comply without too much fanfare. Basically, it could have been worse, given the woman’s wrap sheet. 

Luke looks happy though, more bubbly than usual. It suits him even more than his usual cheerful demeanor. 

“What’s got you all giddy today?”

Luke’s welcoming smile is more telling than anything he could have said. Din’s pretty sure he’s the only patron that ever gets to see that smile. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

“Nothing really, I just had a good night.”

“What, did something else happen after I left?”

Luke chuckles, “No, I had a really quiet night thanks to you. I just…”

He seems hesitant to share whatever it is that’s got him so happy. Din doesn’t feel the need to push for a real answer though.

_Maybe he does have a soulmate after all._

“It’s all good. I’m sorry about last night too. I’m probably going to keep apologizing. I don’t remember the last time I had to actually take down a mark in the cantina.”

Luke’s smiling again, this one feels more personal somehow, even though it’s not as bright.

“It’s been about a month. You’ve been getting better at not making a mess of my bar, but you don’t need to apologize. There wasn’t much to clean up anyway, just a little spilled beer.”

“Well I’m glad I’m not a major inconvenience and that I’m still allowed to grace you with my presence.” Din isn’t quite sure where the teasing comes from, but lets it roll off his tongue anyway.

“Wouldn’t want to lose my favorite customer,” Luke says with an answering wink. “Besides, you can repay me by staying late and helping me deal with the inevitable late night weekend crowd.”

“Had a feeling that was coming,” Din laughs good-naturedly. “I can stay until close. Got a new mark today but I wouldn’t expect him to show up to a place like this, no offense.”

“What, my hole in the wall bar isn’t good enough for your low-life’s anymore?”

Din’s shrug is noncommittal, and Luke takes the lull in conversation to finish cleaning some glasses and cleaning up behind the bar before the inevitable influx of customers. 

And those customers come quickly, many filing in after they get off of work. Luke is soon busy keeping up with orders, leaving Din to people watch at his usual spot at the end of the counter.

Despite not expecting his mark to show up to a bar like this, he can’t help but keep a cautious eye on the door. As the hours tick by, his eyes tend to drift more to Luke than the door.

That seems to be the norm recently. Din isn’t exactly upset by it. He just can’t really pinpoint when it changed, which is the most frustrating thing. They’d been friends from the get go, and it had just been easy to watch from afar. Pine from afar is probably more accurate but Din isn’t quite ready to admit that to himself. 

It’s a half hour until closing time when the lively night comes to a head. Luke utters the last call from his spot behind the counter, and makes the judgement call to start exchanging last drinks for car keys. 

One man isn’t exactly happy to give up his keys, yelling at Luke loudly enough for Din to decide it’s time to step in. Din thinks the contrast of him walking up to the burly man clad in leather, denim, and an array of biker rings warrants the use of his best authoritative voice, usually the one reserved for bringing in marks.

“Alright buddy, you heard the man. You want your last drink, you give up your keys. You want to keep being loud? I’ll show you the door myself.”

“Pfttt,” the man’s huff of dismissal smells strongly of alcohol. Not that that was surprising to Din in the slightest, but it’s still not a pleasant smell when it’s in such a strong concentration.

The biker turns away from Din and back to Luke, continuing to complain about how he’s a paying customer so he should get a drink regardless of his inebriated state. Luke is clearly doing his best to ignore the man, favoring taking care of the few other customers left in the cantina this late. 

“He’s not going to serve you, pal, you should get going. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Oh yeah? And what’re you gonna do to me huh?” 

The man has clearly underestimated Din, which is just fine. What he shouldn’t have done was give Din’s shoulder a small shove to punctuate his second question. Now it wasn’t Din who was initiating whatever altercation came next.

“Shouldn’t have done that, buddy,” Din says as he grabs the man’s shoulders and hauls him away from the counter and pushes him in the direction of the exit.

“Get your _fucking_ hands off me you jackass,” the man spits at Din as he stumbles around after being thrown. He manages to keep from falling to the floor, but only barely.

Din knows he’s made the guy angry. They usually get angry after being manhandled, but usually when they’re this drunk it’s pretty easy to avoid any clumsy punches that get thrown his way. 

Din supposes he should say usually.

It’s _usually_ pretty easy to avoid those clumsy punches.

This guy is evidently faster than his size and drunk state lets on, and a quick right hook catches Din square in the cheek. He can feel the man’s biker rings tear into his skin. He’s probably going to have to get that looked at.

So maybe Din underestimated the man. It’s a mistake Din doesn’t make twice. Two quick punches to the man’s gut and a third to his jaw has him recoiling into the hallway that leads towards the exit. The biker, after taking in Din and his split cheek and assessing his own injuries, decides the safest course of action is to just leave the bar altogether, which is what Din was hoping to accomplish anyways.

With the man gone and only a few people left in the bar, all of whom have successfully relinquished their keys to Luke, Din makes his way back towards his spot at the counter. A damp rag gets pressed to his cheek and he doesn’t have to look up to know that Luke had gently placed it there. Din replaces Luke’s hands to apply pressure, allowing Luke to continue serving the others. There’s definitely some blood on the towel when he pulls it away from his face, but he doesn’t think it’s bad enough to warrant a hospital visit to get stitches.

Din puts the towel back to his face, relishing in the cooling sensation of it, before turning to watch Luke help the last customer pay for the night. The woman is clearly drawing the interaction out, and it makes Din’s blood boil in a fit of jealousy he doesn’t think is warranted.

XXXXXX

“You must deal with crap like that all the time, I bet your nights are really interesting,” the woman says. Luke’s only half paying attention, mind preoccupied with Din pressing the rag to his injuries at the end of the bar.

“Yeah it can get tense in here. But that’s why I’ve got him,” Luke says, hooking his thumb in Din’s direction. 

“Oh _absolutely_ , having security is always a good idea.” When Luke doesn’t answer her, the woman decides to keep the conversation going, despite her tipsy state. “Say, I like your cherry blossom tattoo. When did you get it? When I was a kid I fell on the playground and I absolutely scratched my face up in about the same place as your tattoo.”

“My what?”

“Your tattoo, silly,” she says, pointing to Luke’s face.

“I don’t-- I don’t have a tattoo there.”

“You do! They’re very pretty. I like the pink on you. I think it compliments your blue eyes. Do do you have a soulmate because like I said--”

“I have a soulmate, yes. Sorry.”

“Oh.” She’s clearly disappointed. Luke has to refrain from looking at Din down the bar to gauge his reaction to his words. It has to be him, right? “Well I guess it never hurts to ask. Have a goodnight.”

“You too,” Luke calls after her.

A tense silence fills the cantina as the bells chime, marking the woman’s departure. Luke is torn between wanting to run to the bathroom to see the new cherry blossoms, but he has a sneaking suspicion Din has some questions of his own that he should answer.

Luke can feel Din’s eyes on him. As he turns to meet Din’s gaze he watches the man’s eyes light up as they catch sight of his new tattoo. He also watches as they dim a moment later, Din’s face taking on a pained expression.

“So, you have a soulmate then? I should let you go. They're obviously hurt.”

“You’re a dumbass sometimes you know that?”

“I-- what?”

Luke walks around the counter to grab Din’s hand. He leads Din towards the bathroom, willing himself to have the courage to finally ask Din about the tattoos on his hands. Willing them to line up with his missing hand and glass scars.

Once in the bathroom, Luke plants Din in front of the mirror. In the rush of Luke pulling him from his seat, he had left the rag at the counter. The angry red of Din’s split cheek is mirrored in Luke’s reflection in soft pink petals.

Luke can see the moment of recognition pass over Din.

The resulting smile that graces Din’s lips is not one Luke will soon forget.

Still, Din seems hesitant to turn away from the mirror, hesitant to look at Luke after his revelation. Slowly, Din grabs the hem of his shirt, lifting up the left side to reveal his ribs. They’re painted an ugly green from where he had taken Xi’an’s punch.

Luke copies him, lifting his shirt to show Din the rose that had appeared there.

“I saw it for the first time when I got home from the cantina last night,” Luke whispers.

Luke watches Din’s mirrored self blink and give a slight nod at his statement. Din lets his shirt drop back down and moves to roll up his sleeves. Luke’s heart is thudding in his chest as he finally sees the tattoo that covers the entirety of Din’s right hand. It’s beautiful, and he never wants Din to cover it again.

Luke doesn’t need to copy him, his sleeves already rolled to his elbows from working. He twists his hand around, pointing his wrist at the mirror so Din can watch as he pops off the service panel to his prosthetic.

“It’s a robotic prosthetic. I lost the real one close to a year ago.”

Din wiggles his left hand a little, showing off the lines that wrap around his fingers and the delicate line of lavender on the outside of his hand.

Luke can’t suppress a small chuckle before whispering, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cut myself cleaning up broken glass around here.”

Luke offers his hand to Din, who finally turns away from the mirror to face him. Din carefully doesn’t look Luke in the eyes, instead tracing his fingers over the small scars that pepper Luke’s hand. Eventually, Din’s fingers get to the chain of daisies that run across his knuckles.

“Did you have these on your other hand too?”

Din’s gaze slowly travels up Luke’s body, settling on Luke’s face. Luke can only nod, paralyzed by the depth of emotion that is contained behind Din’s dark eyes. A slow and small smile pulls at Din’s lips.

“Guess I need to be more careful about punching people.”

Din brings Luke’s hand to his mouth, kissing the flowers there. When their gazes meet, Luke can’t describe the way Din is looking at him. Reverent, maybe?

“It’s you,” Din says, a soft statement that carries such a large weight with it.

“Is that okay?”

Din doesn’t give him an answer. Not in words anyway. Instead, Din dips his head to Luke’s level and captures his lips in a gentle kiss. 

When Din pulls back he doesn’t leave Luke’s space. He keeps their foreheads pressed together, and Luke is happy he stays so close. 

“I’m so glad it’s you,” Din whispers against Luke’s lips.

Luke catches the soft crinkle at Din’s eyes as he smiles at his own statement. Luke can’t help but mirror his expression.

Feeling Din smile into a kiss is easily Luke’s new favorite thing.


End file.
